


The Road Not Taken

by AuroraKant



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Damian Wayne-centric, Dick Says "Fuck" Once, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Homework, Hugs, Ice Cream, The Age Old Question: What Do You Want To Do With Your Life?, YeetDC2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25289071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraKant/pseuds/AuroraKant
Summary: The assignment read:"Where do you see yourself in fifteen years! Prepare a small presentation (app. ten minutes) on one profession and write a two-page paper on what that job includes, why you can see yourself in that profession, and what good it does for the community.”Damian had no answer. Or at least no answer that would make everyone happy.Or: Damian has to decide what he wants to do with his future. Its harder than he'd like, but Dick might just be able to help Damian figure some stuff out.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne
Comments: 20
Kudos: 261





	The Road Not Taken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gemini_Baby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemini_Baby/gifts).



> Hello!  
> I am once again here with some fluff (and don't worry I am still writing Angst and Whump but that is a larger project, so fluff it is)!  
> It is some sweet Damian and Dick bonding combined with some hcs that I have for Damian's future job!  
> I hope you enjoy it and i am happy about every kudo, comment, bookmark or even just the knowledge that you read and enjoyed it! <3

It was just a stupid school assignment. At least it was supposed to be, and yet it left Damian stumped.

He was good at school, excellent even, but this one assignment was currently kicking his ass. Who needed plebian homework like this anyway? Damian was supposed to be better than this. He was the Son of the Bat and the Heir of the Demon after all. School was beneath him.

At least usually.

But Richard always looked so happy when Damian told him of the few classmates he had that were… tolerable, and Father smiled when he saw the report cards Damian brought home. Pennyworth tended to celebrate reports and presentations with Damian’s favorite foods and even Jason and Drake had made it known that they appreciated his efforts by complimenting his academic achievements.

Everyone in the family seemed to enjoy him... being good at school.

So, maybe he should try again, no matter how much more tempting the watercolors on the other side of his desk were. Maybe he shouldn’t let this one assignment be the reason why he disappointed Father or, worse, Richard and Pennyworth.

His eyes found the paper in front of him again, and the words didn’t spark any more joy than they had minutes ago:

 _“Where do you see yourself in fifteen years! Prepare a small presentation (app. ten minutes) on one profession and write a two-page paper on what that job includes, why you can see yourself in that profession, and what good it does for the community_.”

Damian had no answer. Or at least no answer that would make everyone happy.

His classmates had it easier. Half of them could write down CEO to whatever company their parents owned and the other half – probably the more realistic one – would write about their dreams of becoming trash collectors and how that would help save Gotham.

But Damian would never be the CEO to his father’s company. Because Drake would gladly take that job, should Father ever decide that he no longer wanted to run Wayne Enterprises. Father would never look at Damian and choose his youngest for the role Damian had been born for.

It didn’t matter that the last thing Damian ever wanted to do was play figurehead to a company that big, it had still been his birthright. He should have been the obvious choice for the next Wayne that lead the firm to success.

But, no, Drake would be granted that honor. Damian couldn’t even really find it in himself to be mad about it all that much. It wasn’t a role he really wanted after all. He just hated how much more daunting it made his assignment.

Because what else was he supposed to become if not a leader?

What other profession would make his family proud?

Damian had no idea. Not even hours of concentrated thinking had brought him closer to an answer. There was no solution to this. There was just a headache and un-finished homework.

Maybe he should ask Richard, the man having jumped from one disgraceful job to the other ever since he left the Manor behind as a young man. Richard surely knew what Damian was supposed to do. And even if he didn’t, Damian was capable of learning from other’s mistakes just as much as he could learn from his own.

As if he had sensed the distress of his little brother, Richard stepped inside Damian’s room without knocking. It had irritated the hell out of Damian back in the beginning, when everything had been new, when everyone had been a foe, but over the last few years he had come to accept the fact that Richard had no concept of doors as one of the given truths of life.

Todd and Drake were foolish and yet part of the family, Richard had no idea what doors were, Cassandra was an admirable opponent, and Damian would disappoint his Father and every Wayne that had come before him.

Cold, harsh facts just as Damian liked them.

“Hey, lil’D, how’s it going? I thought we had a date with an ice cream sundae down at Melli’s?”

Richard’s voice was cautious, just as it always tended to be when he thought Damian was in a bad mood. And well, it wasn’t as if Richard was wrong. Still, Damian had no time for this. He had homework to finish:

“I do not appreciate being interrupted, Richard. If you could leave me alone. Melli’s has to wait, I have important matters to deal with.”

“Oh?”

As if Damian hadn’t said anything, Dick came closer, now standing directly next to Damian, his hip the same height as Damian’s shoulder. It was too late for him to be able to hide anything, so he let his brother’s eyes wander over the documents hazily strewn across the table, let him read the offending assignment at hand.

“And?”

“And what?”

“What do you want to become when you’re older?”

Damian listened carefully for any hint of tension in Richard’s voice, for anything that could hide apprehension, expectation, or condescension, but he couldn’t find anything like that. Just honest interest and maybe a touch of humor at the idea of his little brother struggling at school for once instead of being perfect.

Maybe that was what made Damian say the truth. Maybe that was the reason why he didn’t shut Richard out, but allowed him in without much of a fight:

“I don’t know.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t know what I want to do later in life. I thought about taking over WE, but Drake has already taken care of that, and nothing else seems to make any sense. What am I supposed to answer?”

It was the truth. What else was Damian supposed to do with his life if not carry on the family legacy? He wouldn’t get WE, and he probably wouldn’t get Batman either, not with the way that Cassandra seemed to have her eye set on it.

Richard crouched down next to him, worry and love written on his face, as he spoke next:

“Yeah, but… you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I didn’t want to spend my life stuck in tiny rooms with stuffy businesspeople, so I decided not to do that. And if you _want_ to do it… I am more than sure that Tim would be happy as hell, if he would be allowed to play in the R&D department without being interrupted. WE _can_ be an option if you want it to be one.”

“That is not what I mean, and you know it!”

Damian hadn’t meant to snap at Richard, but the words had been out in the open before he could stop them. And they were true! Richard knew that Damian’s existential dread wasn’t about the fact that Drake would lead Wayne Enterprises, not really. It was about the fact that Damian was without direction. That there was no legacy left for him to claim.

And Damian had never been without a legacy.

He feared the day he would be too old for Robin, the day when the last thing tying him to the family would be gone as well. Then the only thing left would be his name and the decisions he made along the way.

Which was why he needed a good answer to this question after his future. He needed something that would satisfy both the teacher and his Father. His family.

“Sorry, Dami, you are right.”

Richard’s arm found Damian’s shoulder, forcing him into a one-sided hug, before Richard continued speaking:

“So, WE is out. What else do you like to do? You like animals. You could become a veterinarian. You are certainly clever enough for that. Oh! Or an artist! With pictures in the Louvre!”

Shame burned in Damian’s stomach. Richard was mocking him. And why wouldn’t he? The man had thrown everything in the wind the moment he turned eighteen, leaving the Manor and what he owed to the Wayne name behind as he waited tables in Blüdhaven. Richard couldn’t care less about the legacy and its importance.

It had been a mistake to talk to him about this. Really, it was Damian’s fault after all, to dare and think that anyone would understand. That _Richard_ would understand.

The tears were already dripping down his cheeks, when he tried to free himself from Richard’s embrace:

“Let me go. This was a mistake.”

“Oh… Baby Bat… I didn’t mean it like that. I am so sorry. I wasn’t making fun of you. I promise.”

It sounded patronizing to his ears, but when Damian glanced up, only honesty and regret were visible in Richard’s face. And Damian had always been able to trust his eyes above his ears, mimic so much more reliable than tone. Pictures so much easier to read than words. Art so much simpler than people.

“I am really sorry, Dami. Why don’t you explain to me exactly what you need me to do? And why it is so hard for you to finish that assignment? And then we go and get the biggest sundae you can even think off, sounds good?”

Damian wasn’t sure. Did they really have to talk about this still? One look into the determined eyes of his older brother told him that, yes, they would have to talk about this still. Richard wanted answers and he tended to be persistent when it came to getting them.

“I… I need you to take this as the grave decision that it is. We need to find a job that is honorable and achievable. Something that would make Father proud. Something worthy of a Wayne. Especially since it will be Drake who caries on the Wayne name otherwise.”

Silence fell over Damian’s room as Richard contemplated his words. They were still uncomfortable close to each other, Damian unable to escape the hug his older brother had caught him in.

 ~~Not really wanting to, either~~.

Richard’s voice was careful when he finally broke through the loud thoughts tumbling around in Damian’s brain:

“I was honest when I said that earlier. You would make a great veterinarian. You are good with animals, and you get good grades. It is an _honorable_ job, but… Having a job is not about making your family proud. Having a job is about earning money so you can put food on the table and have a roof above your head. And when you achieved that… even then having a job is about… doing something you love. Something you enjoy doing.”

Damian _knew_ that. But he also knew that he was different. You couldn’t be the heir to two grand ancestral lines and _not_ know, that you had to do grand things with your life. Damian wasn’t dumb. He knew that there were expectations, even if he had never heard them being spoken aloud. At least not by his Father. Mother and Grandfather had made sure that he knew exactly just _what_ was expected of him.

But Richard wasn’t done yet:

“I am certainly not a gym instructor because of the money or the prestige. I do it because I love it and it calms me down before I go out at night. It fulfills me in a sense. And when it stops doing that… well, then I might change direction again… but let me tell you a secret: Even if I change my job another hundred times, even if I sold drugs to middle aged moms… Bruce would still be proud of me. Because he loves me. And nothing I could ever do, would stop that from being true. Nothing you could do, either. He loves you, kiddo, and he wants you to be happy. So, choose a job that would make you happy.”

That seemed to be such a… simple answer to such a complex problem.

Veterinarian sounded good. It sounded almost like becoming a doctor – one of the professions Damian had toyed with – just without the pesky humans.

“I could see myself becoming a veterinarian. Owning a clinic, maybe.”

But something still didn’t quite sit right with Damian. And Richard seemed to feel it too, his eyes never leaving Damian’s face:

“I mean… if that’s what you want to do, I won’t stop you. You would be great. But… what is the most outlandish thing you could think off?”

Outlandish? Damian had no idea where Richard was going with this, but his eyes had already found the art set at the corner of his desk, before Richard had a chance to continue:

“I will count to three and you’re just going to say it. Think of it as a… trainings exercise, okay? 1… 2… 3… NOW!”

“Artist”

Well, Damian hadn’t counted on saying anything at all, but once again his brain – and his mouth – had surprised him. Betrayed him.

Richard seemed to be surprised as well, his mouth open as if he wanted to say something, but no words coming out. No, Richard was just looking at him now, something soft in his gaze. They just continued to stare at each other, until Richard closed his mouth, a proud smile grazing his lips:

“Now, there you have it. Something completely different. Why don’t you write your report on that, a bit of a challenge for once, and if you become a veterinarian or a lawyer in fifteen years, no one will care that you dared to write something else when you were in seventh grade. But thinking about something outlandish won’t hurt you.”

“I can’t”

“Why?”

Richard really wanted to know. He really didn’t know. Well, Damian was more than happy to offer up an answer:

“Because ‘artist’ is not a real job. Especially not one worthy of a Wayne. I can excuse doing my report on becoming a doctor, but I would turn myself into a laughingstock if I dared to say that I wanted to become an _artist_. The Wayne name is worth more than that.”

Richard was no longer smiling, something sad turning the corners of his mouth down, something heavy weighting down a body made to fly:

“Dami… I… You will always be worthy, and I will always be proud. And being an artist is nothing bad. Many people make their money through art… and I have seen how you paint. I have seen your sketches. You are talented. You can do what you want. Just… no one in this family would ever judge you for your choices. And if someone else does, well, excuse my language, but fuck them. They don’t deserve you.”

“I am a Wayne and an al Ghul. I have expectations to live up to! I am sorry but being the ward of Bruce Wayne did not force you to make the same decisions I am being confronted with!”

“Damian. That was uncalled for.”

The echo of Richard’s raised voice made the silence that followed it so much louder. Damian hadn’t meant to say it, even if the words had been true. At least a little bit. But… but he just needed Richard to understand. He needed someone to see the struggle he was caught up in.

Richard sounded subdued when he continued:

“You are thirteen, Damian. Nothing you do right now – especially not in school – will change the world. You have time. So much time. Don’t stress yourself out. Maybe you will end up in one profession or another, maybe you will end up hating art and burn down museums in your free time, but if right now, you want to become an artist… then I want you to write that down.”

“I only said it because you put me on the spot. My outburst has nothing to do with my true wishes.”

“It was a trick about unlocking desires we both learned from Bruce, so try that again, little one. But there is nothing shameful in wanting something. There is nothing shameful in becoming an artist – and there is no job that would stop you from being a Wayne, from being a part of this family. No job that would stop me from being proud of you.”

Richard pressed Damian closer once more, before he stood up, dusting non-existent dirt from his pants (Damian always kept his room immaculate). He turned around to leave, before addressing Damian one last time:

“Just think about what I said, yeah? About doing what you want for once. Try to think about what Damian wants and not what your legacy promised you. Oh, and try to be done in an hour. I promised you ice cream and I plan on delivering.”

With that, the man was gone, leaving Damian and a head full of whirring thoughts behind.

His eyes found the assignment sheet again, the empty, dotted lines and the absence of an answer. His mind replayed Richard’s words over and over and over: _There is no job that would stop you from being a Wayne, from being a part of this family._

His pen was shaking when he pressed the tip down on the paper, this one word feeling heavier and harder than half the battles he had fought in the past:

 _“First Question: What job would you like to do your presentation on?:_ ”  Artist 

Damian had no idea what he wanted to do with his future, or what job he would one day perform, but maybe this was a start. Maybe this was the first step in a legacy he created for himself. Maybe this was the first step he took on the path that was Damian al Ghul Wayne’s future, his own future and not the future of the name he had been given.

Or maybe this was just a word written on an assignment no one would care about, only created to be forgotten.

Damian didn’t know, and he would have to grow up to see what would happen, if it would count. But from now on he lived in a world in which Damian had chosen to tell the truth when his teacher asked him what he wanted to be:

Damian wanted to create art – Damian wanted to spread beauty.

And maybe he would do just that one day.


End file.
